Ch 9

Melmat opened the small pouch in his luggage and poured a small pile of pink rock salt into his hand. He rode in a taxi, headed to MIT, feeling more nervous than he had in years. He threw his head back and ate the salt, rolling the crystals around his tongue and savoring the flavor as they dissolved. Outside the taxi, Librorum flew along, a small violet orb that weaved and dove through oncoming traffic, though they could not see her, and she would suffer no consequences should she lose her game of chicken. Melmat spared himself a brief smile, thinking that at least she was enjoying herself.

He had already been accepted back to MIT, under his own name, Melmat. This had been accomplished through a combination of academic and financial bribery, allowing him to enroll in the middle of the year into a post graduate program which was in desperate need of brains, a program that had tripped off a major flag in their favor about a year earlier. Predictably, the memories rose, of those days before it all began. The days before his God, Science, was savaged by something much older. The days before The Master.

“I can make you forget, if you like,” Librorum whispered in his ear, responding to the old pain.

“The shame of our foolish past?” Melmat whispered “No. Shouldn't you be working on something?” Librorum conveyed the psychic equivalent of a pout.

“I've already organized, and re-organized your entire childhood, and teenage years, and,” she paused “All the dreams you experienced during that time-frame. I do an excellent job, and the reward is an excess of leisure time.”

“What about the paper?” Melmat asked. “Have you come up with a name for it?”

“You actually thought of a perfect one several days ago,” she said “when we were at the diner. You ate most of your breakfast and paid exactly-”

“Point,” Melmat interrupted, “get to the point.”

“The Bilingual Brain,” she said without missing a beat. Melmat paused, mulling it over.

“Wow. That's pretty good. I almost don't want to let it go,” he said quietly, a smirk on his face “any chance he'll want to come up with his own title?”

“The first rule of favors and bribery,” Librorum scolded “is no take backs. Dr. Johanna pulled a lot of strings to get you in, and I'm sure he could pull just as many to really screw up our plans. Besides, he's the perfect vector,” she said, voice abruptly taking on a 'come on now' tone “Once he publishes the paper we should start to see a dramatic uptick in stable thoughtform production among psychologists and anyone smart enough to be following his research. Once that starts, the Master's system will finally start to take root in the astral.”

“Pah!” Melmat suddenly exclaimed, causing his increasingly uncomfortable cab driver to jump “he's a hack! Thoughts as literally living, self-replicating organisms? I want some of what he's smoking.” Librorum gave him the psychic stink-eye.

–

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Melmat knew something was wrong the moment he arrived on campus. He had planned on walking around a bit, savoring the unique sensation of regret and nostalgia merged as one, to wander a bit as a person superior to the one he had left behind. However, the moment his cab parked, an excited young man in a lab coat opened his door for him and shook his hand.

“You must be Melmat,” he said, “Cool name, by the way! I'm retard cattle man, but you can call me dumbass!” Melmat mentally sent a scolding look to Librorum, and heard her tinkling laughter in the back of his mind.

“I'm sorry,” Melmat said, feigning fatigue, “I've just had a very long trip. What did you say your name was?”

“No, no!” he said, suddenly embarrassed “I should've- oh jeeze, I'm sorry. My name is Ronald Miller, but please call me Ron. Look, Dr. Johanna is one of my favorite professors, and he's been going on non-stop about you and the help you've been in the new paper he's going to publish.”

“I think you mean the paper we entirely re-wrote for him,” Librorum said silently, amused. Melmat, however, felt the beginning of a major wrench falling into his plans.

“Well, I'm. . . I'm glad to hear it,” Melmat said.

“Look, I know you're tired,” Ron said, eyes bright “But based on what Dr. Johanna had to say about you, I think you'll want to see what we're working on immediately.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” Melmat asked, wishing he had a way to say no. “But, let me drop off my things first,” he said, indicating his two pieces of luggage.

Ron rushed to the other side of the vehicle and pulled them out.

“I'll help!”

–

Melmat couldn't stop staring, totally unable to listen to Ron as he endlessly spoke about the theoretical work he and his extremely small team had been able make progress on. Sitting on a table a little ways from the center of attention was a large, black plastic cube, an antenna with a wire mesh cone sticking out of the top of it. Melmat noted the burn marks and smell of smoke in the room.

“. . . Melmat?” Ron said, finally cluing in on the mood. He turned his head and looked at the device on the table, the smirked. “I see you've taken a liking to the Uke-A.” Melmat swallowed, then composed himself.

“It's such a strange little device,” Melmat said as Librorum began doing frantic circles around the room, checking for contamination. “What do you use it for?”

“Well,” Ron said “It's all little hard to swallow, but we think it's detecting the ripples in space caused by the brain as it's thinking. I built it based on some really old theoretical work stashed away in the library. The name is an acronym, it means Unknown Energy Antenna. Don't worry too much about it though,” Ron said, looking depressed. “It's malfunctioning right now. Last night it started sparking and lit on fire.”

“Oh,” Melmat said, unintentionally sounding relieved “so the data was destroyed then?”

Ron seemed taken aback, and Melmat composed his features to appear sympathetic. Ron's suspicions melted away at the deception.

“Well,” Ron said “hopefully not. We pulled the black box out this morning. I'm not particularly optimistic we'll get anything from it though.” Melmat patted him on the shoulder and nodded his head.

“Shit happens, buddy. So, Dr. Johanna explained it a little bit, but why don't you tell me about your project? It's free energy, right?” Melmat asked, and Ron looked embarrassed.

“I know, I know. Cliche, right? Truth be told, I was shocked when I heard you wanted to join the project.” Melmat was well prepared for the implied question. He and Librorum had spent a considerable amount of time constructing his backstory.

“I'll be honest with you,” Melmat said. At that moment, however, an excited man with red hair burst into the room with a laptop under one arm, and a small black box under the other.

“Drop whatever you are fucking doing, Ronnie. You have GOT to see this.”

Melmat felt a rock drop in the pit of his stomach, and Librorum sighed.

“Fuck,” they thought simultaneously.